


in which nothing matters besides

by honeynoir (bracelets)



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Brainwashing, F/M, Gen, Rape/Non-con References, dark!Doctor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-28
Updated: 2012-01-28
Packaged: 2017-10-30 06:12:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/328656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bracelets/pseuds/honeynoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He smiles and his teeth glint.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in which nothing matters besides

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings** : brainwashing, non-con.
> 
> Written in 2010 for the Bowties Are Cool! ficathon and the prompt: _'Eleven/Amy, Doctor/Companions - He ate my heart and then he ate my brain'._ \- _Monster_ , Lady Gaga.

His smile is kind and his eyes are kind too, but also sharp and uncertain and… quietly desperate. He’s talking about something, dragging her along; they’re all but dancing around the console. 

He stops and touches a hand to her chest, pressing it against her breastbone, his fingertips resting on her collarbone... Then he gives a tiny push, just a miniscule one, but it is like a defibrillation and she can’t breathe properly. It’s a sultry thing the next moment, throbbing in her veins and changing her pulse, minutely, making it faster, attuning it to...

She thinks something will come alive inside of her, because it flutters and catches somewhere in her ribcage... but nothing happens. The flutter ceases and goes missing. It goes with a smaller sound and a lesser pain than she had thought it would. She doesn’t even know what it was and she can’t miss it. There’s awe in there instead. Glorious awe and swelling expectation. And what it replaced could not have been so very important, could it?

And really, it had been a long time since her heart had been entirely her own. It was the first thing to go, and not a small piece of it either. Didn’t she accept the impossibility and illogicalness of him right from the start? So very long ago? She can see it now, and she loves it.

She’s light-headed, and her blood runs easier, faster, hotter.

He touches her head with the tip of a finger next. He taps her forehead once, twice. Thrice and it comes true, wasn’t that how it was?

And three times.

He smiles and his teeth glint.

She’s sure there were other thoughts in her head just a moment ago, thoughts of quite normal things, like home and... shoes and… tea… and… don’t the stars call more now? Don’t they shine brighter? Don’t they beckon like a billion tiny sirens? She can’t even see them, and yet she’s more aware of them than ever. And what was cut off in her head, what she can’t reach inside herself anymore, well, it can’t have been anything special, can it?

She’s Little Red Riding Hood, always has been; she’s perfect for the role, in every way, isn’t she just? She’s always thought he was the Hunter, there to save her, but sometimes he looks at her with a glint in his eye that makes her wonder. There’s a Wolf in that story, too, and doesn’t it play a larger part in the girl’s life than the Hunter does? Isn’t it more important? Her head spins and is that fog outside or inside of it? Wasn’t there someone who was supposed to be her Prince? She can’t be entirely sure. And anyway, there was no prince in that tale, was it?

_‘You’re a time traveller now, you see the world in a different way.’_

He’s ancient and forever, and she _sees_ it.

She nearly sobs because she thinks she’s done now. That she’s converted. That she’s his and that’s there’s nothing left to receive and she wants to have more. She doesn’t care what she forgets because nothing is more important than this. Her heart is ready, and her head is ready; they're aching for the most glorious sights in the Universe, waiting to be filled with wonders. She wants to travel, to flit and flicker and not ever settle because why should she?

 

*

 

Perhaps it isn’t conscious, what he does, though perhaps it is. He thinks a lot, and forgets a lot. If they are in pain and confused, and if all it takes is a little push, and then they are happy and there at his side…

He needs them. And they need him.

Isn’t it all a lobotomy of sorts? Mutual and obvious? All of time and space does that. How can anyone not want all of time and space?

If they are bored and need adventure, and he is lonely and can offer it – who wouldn’t want that? 

Some just needed the choice. Some took a little more insistence, be it an escape from certain death, genetic transfers, education, or a friend to come along. Some needed to mull and regret.

Some needed to wait.

The end result was always the same, though.

The Doctor and his (companions) (friends) (acquisitions) in the TARDIS.

All of time and space.


End file.
